


Where Shall We Begin

by Entity_Sylvir



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Episode Tag, Game of Cat and Cat, M/M, Post-Yakimono, Spoilers, mildly rough sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 06:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1460080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entity_Sylvir/pseuds/Entity_Sylvir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This hour is for show and they both know it, a prelude. Just a hint for after.</p><p>(coda to 2x07)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Shall We Begin

**Author's Note:**

> So that last episode, eh?

He says, "My feelings about you," and lets the words roll out as smoothly as the newly-trimmed wave of his hair. A hint of something spicy in the air lingers on the back of Will's tongue when he inhales as if breathing in the heady swirl of things unspoken, a dear old friend to the man standing behind no doubt but a treasured new one to him. The taste of the hunt. "I think it's best if we do that directly."  
  
An impressive amount of nothing is said during the so-called therapy, double bluffs and triple crosses entwining with hypotheticals and suppositions until it's unclear where one intent ends and the other begins. Will has long given up trying to define their game and instead merely lets them push and pull against each other like nimble hammers across the strings of the harpsichord, dancing in a twisting harmony that can be so easily broken by a single slip. And it doesn't matter anyway because this hour is for show and they both know it, a prelude. Just a hint for after. .  
  
Hannibal sees his patient out when the session ends, staying just a single pace behind. Will raises an eyebrow when the other man hesitates for a fraction of a moment before stepping forward to open the door for him, voice deliberately light when he asks, "Still think I may be sneaking up behind you, Doctor?"  
  
Hannibal twists the knob and pulls. "It is only the prey who is unwilling to show his back," he replies as he gestures out the doorway. "After all, the predator has nothing to fear."  
  
_____  
  
  
Will can see Hannibal's silhouette in his back mirror as he drives away down the road in the direction of home, taking the wrong turn as soon as he veers out of sight to bring himself back into the centre of Baltimore. He head in no direction in particular, turning on the radio to kill time and flipping between a few channels without listening before turning it off again. He spots a drive-through and buys a burger meal before pulling over on the road in front, idly noting that he has negated the purpose of it being drive-through when he stops the engine.

  
He eats with the light on inside the car, then turns it out as he swallows with only a slight grimace around the last few greasy fries. He finds his coke can in the dark, fingers prickling at the cool condensation-damp aluminium, taking a long drink before putting it back down and tucking the rest of his rubbish in the empty cup holder beside it. Then he sits in silence to wait.  
  
There's a full moon in the sky, its soft silvery light mixing with the inky surrounding blackness to wrap around Will like a comforting blanket. It makes him think of ghosts and campfire stories and monsters in the night.  
  
_____  
  
  
It's late when he starts the car again and drives down to Hannibal's street. He parks a good distance away, getting out to walk the rest way in silence, shivering a little in his indulgently expensive jacket. He can see the foyer lights on inside the large house, and ducks behind a tree when the front door opens.  
  
The familiar form of Alana Bloom steps out and Will feels his jaw clench. Her hair is just a little messier than usual, and she buttons up her coat as she walks the few paces to her car in the driveway. He waits until her tail-lights have disappeared around the corner before continuing closer.  
  
The back door is held shut with a padlock that picks open as easily as it had done the previous day. It hasn't been changed. It's practically an invitation.  
  
The lights downstairs are all off by the time Will enters, a shower running as he makes his way upstairs. He makes sure to skip the creaky fifth step from the top and finds the bedroom door open, the lamp on by the bed. The sheets are still unmade, rumpled. Used.  
  
Hannibal opens the door of the ensuite five minutes later with only a towel around his waist, expression betraying not a hint of surprise when he sees Will leaning on the far wall. His face is bland, and ever so polite.  
  
"Good evening."  
  
Will chuckles low in his throat. "Didn't take Doctor Bloom for one to fuck and run," he says.  
  
There's a little frown at the vulgarity. "She has an early start tomorrow."  
  
"I'm sure."  
  
Hannibal takes a step forward, turning off the white fluorescent light in the bathroom. His chest has been dried but his wet hair glistens a little in the yellow lamplight, a few droplets rolling off to slide down his neck. Will takes two steps of his own until the front of his knees are brushing the edge of the bedframe.  
  
"Well, don't be a prude," he continues, a smirk beginning to curl his lips. "Tell me, how is she?"  
  
Hannibal inclines his head. "Pliant," he replies, as if talking about the weather. "Still seeing me as her mentor to some degree, I believe."  
  
"And how's that for you?"  
  
A small shrug. "She's eager to please."  
  
Will moves forward again, stepping around the bed until he's close enough to touch. "And how would you like someone who's eager to take?" he asks, and chuckles again when the doctor's eyes darken.  
  
_____  
  
  
He can smell Alana's perfume on the sheets when Hannibal pushes him back against them, their mouths pressed open together not really kissing, more biting, sucking, _devouring_. The scent of her flowery shampoo is almost cloying when he's flipped over to press his face into the pillow, clawing a line down the mattress in tandem to the nails doing the same to his back. He lets out a little growl when he sees the lubricant and handful of condoms already out on the beside table that Hannibal is reaching for.  
  
Will rocks back as fingers probe roughly inside him, spreading his knees and arching. A hand presses hard between his shoulder blades when they withdraw, trying to push him down but he doesn't let it, pulling away then rolling over so they're face to face again. He digs his fingers into corded muscle as he drags the other man down to bite at the exposed line of neck and collarbone.  
  
He doesn't have to fake the gasps falling from his lips as Hannibal drives into him, the two moving together with more force than grace. Will can hear sounds not his own too which make the heat inside him burn with even more savagery, grunts and low groans that he can feel rumbling deep in the throat against his mouth. He slides his hand upwards to tangle in Hannibal's damp hair, gripping harder than must be comfortable, holding on as the expensive bedframe knocks repeatedly against the wall. It's raw, feral, pure animalistic rutting.  
  
Will comes first, wrenching Hannibal's head back as the friction between their bodies forces him over. He rides it out in jerking shudders, still coming down when he feels the form above him tense the same way before falling still. He unclenches his fist and Hannibal stretches out his neck with a little wince but doesn't drop it. They're left chest to chest with hearts beating in duet, panting in unison, eyes locked together.  
  
_____  
  
  
"I am somewhat curious," Hannibal begins afterwards as they lie side by side, facing each other across the pillows.  
  
"Don't be," Will cuts in. "Stop thinking so much."  
  
And then he turns over without another word to show his back, something that almost looks like a smile on his face as he slips off into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to message, poke, and/or threaten to eat me over at my [tumblr](http://tumbleweedforyou.tumblr.com).


End file.
